Tales of Hedwig's Owlet
by PenAndInkPrincess
Summary: It isn't easy for a single owl mother raising her owlet on her own. Especially when that owlet is the Boy-Who-Lived. This is a collection of Hedwig's stories in her venture of raising Harry Potter.
1. Chapter 1: Chasing Nightmares Away

**Hey! Just a note: Hedwig's hoot translations will be italicized, 'kay? **

Hedwig, from her vantage point in her cage, gazes at her little owlet with concern.

Flapping over to where he lays, tossing and moaning in his sleep, she nuzzles her head into his cheek, offering what comfort she can. She hoots softly, as melodically as she can, soothing her troubled owlet as he turns around in his nest.

When he shoots up, sending Hedwig flying, she can't help but feel a little tiffed. But one look at her Harry's face soothes her nerves and ruffled feathers. He looks scared-no, he looks…what was that word the fluffy-haired smart owlet used?-he looks horrified; yes, that was the word: horrified.

Hopping back over, she lands in his lap, pushing her soft downy head beneath one of his hands and making comforting, crooning noises.

Slowly, her owlet calms down, stroking her silky feathers as his breathing slows. Hedwig nips at his fingers lovingly, before flapping up to land on his shoulder when he lays back down, turning onto his side. She hoots to him, rubbing her velvety head in the crook of his neck.

_Hush, my little owlet, don't you cry,_

_Hedwig will always be by your side. _

_Hush, my precious owlet, don't you fret,_

_Hedwig can still chase the monsters yet. _

_Hush, my darling owlet, settle in your nest, _

_Dawn's almost here, and it's time to rest. _

Hedwig knows her little owlet can't understand her, but she still makes a routine of hooting lullabies to him anyway. She knows he finds it soothing, even if he doesn't realize that it's her equivalent of singing.

"Thank you, Hedwig," her little owlet murmurs as he settles down more, surrendering to the calm of sleep.

_You're welcome. I love you, little owlet. _Satisfied at last that he was asleep, Hedwig moves carefully off of his shoulder, puffing the pillow around her and snuggling in next to her owlet's head, preparing to stay there all night, and chase the nightmares away.


	2. Chapter 2: Hedwig REALLY Hates the Train

Hedwig HATES the Hogwart's Train.

She knows that the train is a time of wonder and fun for her little owlet, and she indulges him, careful that she doesn't sulk while she's waiting on the platform.

But once she's in the hold with all of the other pets, it's another matter entirely. The car where Hedwig is always housed is stuffy and boring, not to mention that after several hours of packed animals, it never smells pleasant.

_Hedwig! Hedwig!_ The snowy owl sighs, debating whether she should pretend to be sleeping. _Heeeedwiiiiggg! _She sighs again in aggravation at the whining tone Pigwidgeon's taken.

_What is it,Pigwidgeon?_

…_hi. _

_Hello, Pigwidgeon. _

_Hey, Hedwig?_

_Yes?_

_Are we there yet?_

_No, Pigwidgeon. We are not "there yet." _

…_are you sure?_

_I'm positive. _

_Really?_

_Really._

_Realllly?_

_Yes, Pigwidgeon. I am positive that we have not arrived yet. _

The conversation lapses into silence, giving Hedwig a small hope that Pigwidgeon has found an alternate source of entertainment. When he speaks again, she snaps her beak in displeasure.

_Are you suuuuuurrrrrreeee?_

_Pigwidgeon, if you are fond of having all of your limbs and feathers, I would suggest that you cease this ridiculous conversation this instant. _

_Alright, Mrs. Grumpy-Feathers…_

_I heard that! _

Pigwidgeon, fortunately enough for his own preservation, turns to conversation with Trevor, Neville's toad.

Just as she's beginning to doze off, a crash resounds throughout the car.

_Errol… _Hedwig says, _only you would manage to fall off of your shelf in a perfectly stable boxcar. _

Her comment elicits a chorus of appreciative hoots from the other owls.

After the others settle down to their own conversations, Hedwig, bored, turns to Crookshanks for a source of conversation.

_How was your summer, Crookshanks? _

_Quite pleasant, Hedwig, except for Hermione's determination to make me wear a ribbon around my throat, exclaiming that it was, "cute!" _Crookshanks growls a deep, throaty noise of displeasure. _Honestly, I love the girl, but I am not a toy. And she cannot seem to comprehend that I do not find books interesting unless I am allowed to shred them. Otherwise, what's the point? Anyway, I digress. How was your summer, Hedwig? _

_Mine was nice enough, thank you. _

_How were Harry's nightmares? As bad as last break? _

_Mm. About the same; it hasn't gotten any better, but at least it hasn't gotten any worse. _

_True, true. And those obnoxious humans he lives with? _

_Urgh. Believe me, you do not even wish for me to begin on Harry's roost mates. I could, quite gleefully, claw their eyes out, especially the big male, Vernon, I believe him name is. You would think the man never learned to talk at a normal volume the way he goes on, bellowing around their roost. And the younger male: he looks like a pig! And he eats like one too! My poor little owlet, forced to reside with them. _

Crookshanks meows sympathetically.

As the train rattles on, Hedwig's nerves become more and more frayed, and she and Crookshanks take turns lamenting that they aren't allowed to ride with their respective humans. Hedwig also frets for her owlet. That blonde human, Draco, is on this train; she and his owl have already begun a verbal barrage from their cages.

_Filthy common-born, _he sneers.

_Self-righteous brat, _she counters.

_You don't deserve to be called an owl! _

_Do you really wish to begin this with me, you uppity, pompous, pellet-brained imbecile?_

When he is unable to come up with a response, Hedwig preens, her spirits lifted slightly from her victory.

Two more hours, and she is once again deflated.

When, at last, the train comes to a stop and the doors are rolled open, Hedwig lets out a hoot of pleasured relief, feeling the cooler air blast in.

Seeing her owlet with the fluffy-haired smart one named Hermione, and the orange-haired one named Ron, Hedwig flaps her wings with happiness as her owlet laughs at some joke the fluffy one told.

"'Ello, 'Edwig." Hedwig looks up at the man who greeted her and croons her own greeting to the big human her owlet calls Hagrid.

"Glad to be off o' the train, girl?" He says, before moving to the first years gathering in an excited herd outside of the train.

Hedwig rolls her head behind her to glare her discontentment at the train in question.

_You have no idea, Big One. I __really__ hate that train. _


	3. Chapter 3: Head Feathers

Hedwig narrowed her eyes from her vantage point on a coatrack while she watched her owlet scratch away with a quill, writing a letter to the fluffy-haired friend.

For what seemed like the hundredth time to Hedwig, her owlet brushed his head feathers from his face where they had been obscuring his vision and tucked them behind the flesh plates on either side of his head.

The owl huffed in exasperation. She understood that as a human, her owlet didn't have his thin feathers all over his body and was thus probably embarrassed at his state of nakedness. But enough was enough. Just the other day he tripped over his desk and almost knocked Hedwig's cage over because his head feathers had blocked out his eyes.

She flapped over to her owlet landing beside him. He jumped, startled, but absentmindedly reached out with the wing not writing and scratched Hedwig under her beak. She leaned into the touch, pleased.

The pleasure turned to anger when he stopped because he had to brush his head feathers back again.

She snapped her beak in frustration. It was one thing when his head feathers led to a little clumsiness. Hedwig was used to Errol knocking into things. But now the head feathers were interfering with Hedwig's bonding time with her owlet.

Now it was war.

She hopped up to her owlet's shoulder and began biting at the head feathers, hoping to chop them off herself. Her owlet squawked with indignation and pushed her away.

"What are you doing Hedwig?!" He exclaimed.

_I'm trying to solve this little head feather problem you seem to have. _

Her owlet shook his head and righted his chair from where it had fallen over in his haste to escape his owl.

"Crazy bird," Harry mumbled to himself, returning to his writing.

_You will __**not **__sass me, owlet. _

Hedwig flapped back up to Harry's head, more determined than ever to lop off the offending head feathers.

Again her owlet fought her off, but this time he locked her up in her cage. She ruffled her feathers in anger and stewed, plotting.

_This is not over, my disobedient owlet. Those head feathers are going down. _

XXXXXXXXXX

For the next two weeks Harry had to deal with Hedwig's blitz attacks. When he least expected it she would pounce at him, biting angrily at his bangs until he managed to fend her off.

After the hundredth attack he threw his hand up in despair.

"Fine. I'll go get a haircut!"

He stomped out and Hedwig preened, pleased with herself.

When her owlet returned an hour later with head feathers in a much more respectable length, Hedwig was more than happy to greet him by nuzzling his cheek with her downy head.

"I've cut my bangs. Now what are you doing to do?" He challenged.

Hedwig, in response, curled up against him before combing through his shorter head feathers with her beak, content to snuggle with her owlet as he flipped through a book and now had to need to stop to push his head feathers back, meaning he never needed to stop petting Hedwig, who happily sat by his side.

_Ah, the joys of motherhood. _

**A/N: So…it's five in the morning and I'm tired. So do I go to bed? Nope. I write another chapter. Because I make awesome life decisions, like writing while bleary. I regret nothing. Please review!**


	4. Chapter 4: Nighttime Lessons

**Warning: death of rat, nothing graphic, just letting you know **

It wasn't until he had returned to Privet Drive for summer holiday that Harry understood one of the reasons why owls were not a commonly-kept pet outside of the wizarding world.

While humans liked to sleep at night, owls were not so inclined.

Hedwig was something called "diurnal", according to Hermione, which meant she was active day and night. Harry had started to tune her out after that, but from the bits and pieces he gathered, that wasn't something that was common among owls.

He didn't feel so lucky, though, when Hedwig fluttered over to his bed. She had been hopping all about his room for about an hour and had apparently decided to involve him in whatever game she was playing. He groaned and hid his head under his pillow, hoping against hope that she would go away and settle down for the night.

When his hand brushed against something furry and warm on his bed he snapped his head up and had to stifle a shout of horror when he saw the long tail of the rat Hedwig had dropped onto his mattress.

He flailed, caught in his sheets before finally freeing himself and clambering off of his bed and onto the floor. The rat scurried around his bed, finally dashing beneath a fold of the blanket and holding completely still.

"Bloody hell, Hedwig," he hissed between his teeth, upset but trying not to awaken his relatives.

Hedwig cocked her head and cooed at him, concerned about his retreat.

_Owlet, honestly, _she tsked, _you're impossible. If you think I'm going to catch your food for you all the time, you are mistaken, my little owlet. I don't know what they're teaching you at that school, but hunting is something everyone should know. It's very easy. I'm sure you'll get it in no time. _

Harry glared at her, not understanding that he was being censured. He looked around him, eyes landing on a spare towel that was tossed over the chair in his room. He grabbed it and tossed it over the rat, trying to contain it. He leaped back when it began to run under the material, finally scurrying out.

Hedwig glided over to the window sill and watched her owlet with amusement. His method was unorthodox, of course, but then she had always sensed that her owlet was something special.

When the rat managed to escape her owlet's clumsy attempt at catching it, she sighed, ruffling her feathers.

_Try your front talons, _she advised sagely as her owlet chased after the rat, his piece of cloth in his hands. _Owlet, you're trying to catch it, not dress it up. _

After a few minutes of watching her owlet stumbling about, Hedwig took pity on him. Shaking her head, she pounced smoothly on the smaller creature, catching it in her talons and killing it quickly. She looked up at her owlet, somewhat smug.

_See? Simple. _

Harry scowled at her, gingerly stepping around the now-dead rat at her feet and climbing back into his bed.

"Keep your dinner to yourself, Hedwig," he whispered grumpily.

Hedwig shook her head again before proceeding to eat her rat.

_I wonder if Crookshanks is having this much trouble with Hermione_, she thought as she drifted off to sleep. _I guess I'll just have to try again tomorrow night. _

**That's it! Please leave a review and thanks for reading!**


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